Champagne and wild boar sausages: A very British boat race

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Photos:Oxford win Britain's greatest grudge match

Boys in blue – Each year, rowers from Oxford and Cambridge University go head-to-head on the River Thames. But is the prestigious battle a vulgar display of elitism or the ultimate meritocracy?

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Photos:Oxford win Britain's greatest grudge match

Oarsome protest – This time last year, anti-elitism protester Trenton Oldfield brought the race to a standstill after plunging between the boats. He served seven weeks in prison for the stunt.

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Photos:Oxford win Britain's greatest grudge match

Stepping up security – The British Royal Marines (pictured delivering the trophy) weren't taking any chances this year, patrolling the course armed with thermal imaging equipment.

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Photos:Oxford win Britain's greatest grudge match

Calmer waters – Compared to 2012, it was smooth sailing at Sunday's race -- or "fantastically boring" according to Telegraph journalist Tom Chivers -- with Oxford winning by a length-and-a-half.

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Photos:Oxford win Britain's greatest grudge match

Guts and glory – Elitist? Far from it, said Cambridge University Boat Club president, George Nash, who called it the "ultimate meritocracy."

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Photos:Oxford win Britain's greatest grudge match

Class of their own – Thousands of onlookers turned up at the race, despite the freezing conditions. They were well-catered for, with wild boar sausage stalls and champagne-sponsored soirees lining the river bank.

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Photos:Oxford win Britain's greatest grudge match

Train game – For the rowers, a grueling training regime begins in September. "You just have to make time for studying in between meetings," Nash said.

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Photos:Oxford win Britain's greatest grudge match

That winning feeling – "The boat race isn't a race to lose -- you spend six months of your life training for it and to come second on the day is devastating," said former Oxford rower and four-time Olympic gold medalist, Matthew Pinsent, pictured front. "But to win, is magical."

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Photos:Oxford win Britain's greatest grudge match

Jumping for joy – Winning Oxford cox, Oskar Zorrilla, is thrown in the water after the race, as is tradition. Zorrilla caused controversy after he was heard loudly swearing during the competition.

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Photos:Oxford win Britain's greatest grudge match

Dead set – Only one tie has ever occurred in the 184-year-history of the race, when judge 'Honest John' Phelps reportedly announcing it was a "dead heat to Oxford by five feet," in 1877. The umpire later recorded the race as simply a dead heat.

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Photos:Oxford win Britain's greatest grudge match

Ladies day – It's not just males who take part. The women's boat race was first launched in 1927, with the Oxford ladies also emerging victorious this year.

Story highlights

The "dark blues" cruise over finish line one-and-a-half lengths ahead of rivals

Strong military presence ensures there's no repeat of last year's anti-elitist protest

Tradition and prestige loom large in Britain's greatest grudge match

Eyes trained straight ahead, the 16 young men are as grim-faced as pall-bearers as they carry their respective team's boats down to the river's edge.

Weighing on their broad shoulders isn't just a 20-meter vessel -- it's 184 years of tradition, six months of grueling physical training, and a fierce rivalry between two of the most prestigious universities in the world.

Oxford emerged victorious in the 159th edition of the race on Sunday, cruising over the finish line a length-and-a-half ahead of their rivals, under a torrent of jubilant expletives from cox Oskar Zorrilla.

It was an emotional win for the team who named their boat after former cox and Olympic silver medalist Acer Nethercott, who died earlier this year from cancer, aged 35.

But Oxford, better known as the "dark blues," due to their distinctive uniforms, still trail behind Cambridge's "light blues" in the long history of the race -- 77 to 81.

Indeed, giant billboards dotted along the riverbank screamed "Which blue are you?" to the thousands of onlookers who braved smatterings of snow to cheer on the rowers in their 17-minute crusade from Putney to Mortlake.

Protest, elitism and wild boar sausages

There was none of the drama of last year, however, when Australian protester Trenton Oldfield brought the race to a standstill after plunging between the boats and narrowly avoiding the pounding oars.

Elitist? Far from it, argued Cambridge University Boat Club President, George Nash, who instead called the race "the ultimate meritocracy."

"You get to the university on your academic merit and you make the team on your rowing merit," he said. "It doesn't matter who your parents are."

No pain, no gain

Regardless of its character, there's no disputing the race's reputation as a breeding ground for future Olympians.

It regularly attracts the best athletes from across the world -- including U.S. competitors the Winklevoss twins, who rowed for Oxford in 2010 and are perhaps best known as the former business partners of Mark Zuckerberg, who alleged that Zuckerberg stole the idea for Facebook from them.

Training is a grueling commitment which begins in September, and it's estimated that for every stroke made on race day, 600 have been made during practice.

An average day will begin at 5am, with competitors training around five-hours-a day, seven-days-a-week.

"It's of the highest importance to us -- we sacrifice six months of our lives for 16 minutes," Nash said.

"I'd say there's definitely lots of cases where the boat race has caused many a break-up."

Tradition rules

Since old school chums Charles Merivale, a student at Cambridge, and Charles Wordsworth, of Oxford, first challenged each other to a rowing race in the early 19th century, the competition has gained legendary status in Britain, attracting millions of TV viewers each year.

Fabled stories such as the "1877 dead heat" -- where judge "Honest John" Phelps had his view of the finish line obscured -- add to the almost mythical character of the competition.

Tradition continues to loom large in the race which begins with the toss of an 1829 gold coin and ends with throwing the winning cox into the water.